The book of Psalms is a favorite of mine because David and others bare their heart and soul to the Lord, but always end with praise and thanksgiving for God’s steadfast love. This week I turned to three passages to uplift, encourage and strengthen my soul. I hope they provide the same to you.
After reading a short article about the importance of remembering Easter long after Resurrection Sunday, I decided to write a poem about my experience this Easter.
We are the Church and this Easter reflected that truth through the service of those who risk their lives to care for others.
The Covid-19 virus has upended everyone over the past few weeks. While the new normal creates havoc for nearly everyone, I’ve realized a hidden impact for trauma survivors. With each new restriction comes less control over my life, which triggers old fears and sometimes anger.
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made In this blog, I describe how I come face to face with my distorted self-image. I knew the truth, but still felt unlovable. One simple change altered who I saw when I looked in the mirror.
Originally posted on Charlotte B. Thomason:
As tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought, “How can I ever give her the…
With a sigh of relief, I whispered, “Thank you, for choosing to live.” I looked at the word document on my computer screen and felt a renewed sense of God’s presence. I sat in awe of God’s unconditional love for me.
Writing a memoir is not easy. Over the past several weeks I have learned a great deal about the little girl who endured so much at the hand of those who should have loved and cared for her. The chapters of the memoir are told through the eyes of a child, but as the adult on the other side of the trauma, I feel compelled to write short reflections to that little girl to encourage and uplift her.
As a child, the way I connected with God changed as my understanding of Him grew.
The sonnet below is a poetic version of last week’s blog. In the sonnet, I attempt to capture the emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil of the past few weeks. However, I also want to express the hope and courage I’m rediscovering as I write. The final couplet reaffirms God’s love for me and the child who’s tale I tell.
Writing the first few chapters of my memoir, What Kind of Love is This?-Finding God in the Darkness, was hard, much harder than I anticipated. I am exhausted physically, spiritually, and emotionally. While the memoir focuses more on hope, redemption, and faith rather than detailed descriptions of the abuse that I endured, it sometimes left me raw.